New Turf
by PANDAmonium99
Summary: [Slash - GaryxPeteyxJimmy] Jimmy Hopkins has had enough of his slut of a mom, his ass of a stepdad and his shack of a house. He gets sent to Bullworth Academy, a pretty dump with more secrets than you might think. Gary shows Jimmy around the school and points out the Nerds, Preps, Greasers, Townies and the Jocks. Jimmy doesn't
1. Chapter 1

**Hello to all who are reading! I'm new to (that's why the story doesn't have a cover image yet) but I've been on Mibba for a while, so if you should have a look at the original stuff I've done over there. This story - well, chapter one - is up on there. I've made a layout and everything to make it look pretty. Nice, huh? Well, you should read this or the other one, I don't mind which, but I'll update both. Although since I've been on Mibba for a while, I'm more likely to update the other one, but I'll make sure not to let it go uncompleted. Thanks for reading!**

**Just another reminder, this is GaryxPeteyxJimmy.**

"Come on, now, sweetie."

A sickeningly sweet voice seemed to trickle upstairs as I pack. I looked in my suitcase. I had a t shirt, a jacket and some casual pants with and three sets of horrendous clothes, also known as my new school uniform. Sweater vests? Really?

"Get down here you little shit!" another voice boomeed. Thank god I'm not related to that asshole.  
"I'M COMING!" I shouted and zipped up the suitcase.

The piece of junk fell to the ground as I grabbed the handle and tugged. The wheels on the thing made a noise like nails running down a chalk board. I made my way to the main living area of the shack I like to call 'home', the suitcase clinking and clonking as I go down the stairs.

"How long does it take, honest to God," my mom muttered.

That's the thing with my mother. She wears tacky leopard print fur jackets, clothes too tight that I wish I had acid with which to burn my eyes and she sins day and night. She drinks, she smokes, and she goes out with the very douche that was standing next to her. She's a whore who stole her make-up from a clown show – she's probably slept with them all too. And she still calls herself a Christian.

Steve, the ape with the hairy arms, white vest and the stomach of a whale, grunts and grabbed my suitcase. He carried the tonne as if it weighed nothing and slammed it into the trunk of the piece of crap he uses as a car. I reluctantly followed and retired into the backseat of the car. Mom got into the passenger seat, pursed her lips and held her face out towards Steve.

"MY EYES." I remind them loudly as their lips – and tongues – meet.

"Shut up," Steve grunts.

"Don't talk to my kid like that," Mom said as if she cared. She turned back to me, "Shut up."

Hallelujah. I'm getting away from these creeps.

The car screeched to a halt in front of Bullworth Academy. It's a dump, too. So that's how I got in here without a scholarship. My mom got out of the car with me and touched my shoulder. I shrugged it off. I could see a woman waiting for me behind the gates of the school. I turned back to my mom and her manwhore.

"Mom," I nodded my head to her. "Steve," I sneered.

I turned on my heel and pushed the gate open. This place had to be better than home. However bad it gets, it could never be as bad as home is. And that's a fact.

I stomped through the empty schoolyard. I guess class was in session. For a dump, it was a pretty big and old place. At the front there was a path leading straight up to the school. Across that path was another path, on the left of it was the boys' dorm, on the right was the girls'. In the middle of the crossroads there was a fountain. There was grass and trees everywhere.

Ok, so maybe it doesn't look like a dump, but I heard the headmaster's an ass and that he's sleeping with his secretary. I also heard that the students here are violent as fuck. Home sweet home.

The woman who was at the front steps wore her shoulder-length brown hair so the bottom swept outwards. She wore a pink blouse with a navy blazer and pencil skirt. She was pretty hot, to be fair. I guess she was the secretary, then.

"James Hopkins?" she asked with her thin eyebrows raised upwards.

"I prefer Jimmy," I sneered, "to be utterly honest."

"Welcome to Bullworth Academy James…" she started. I didn't bother listening to whatever she said next. What a bitch.

I followed her into the main school building. Again, pretty but dirty. The main hallway was square, with the doors at the front, the main staircase at the back, and blue lockers on either side. On the right was the cafeteria, I noticed, and on the left there was a teacher's lounge and a reception, I guessed.

I could hear the tapping of her high heels against the wooden stairs like a pin dropping in total silence. She stopped outside of the door that was almost in my face as soon as I reached the second floor. Plastic chairs lining the wall told me it was the headmaster's office before I could read the plaque.

Ms. Secretary, or whatever her name is, gave three firm knocks on the door. The door swung open almost instantly, as if the man who opened it was standing behind it the whole time. The man I assumed to be the headmaster. Seeing us, he turned swiftly on his heel as I had done not even five minutes before in the schoolyard.

The headmaster sat on his seat and did that weird thing that people do when they button up on of the buttons of their suit as they sit down. I sat down on a chair opposite him as the secretary brushed past the headmaster's desk and tugged his tie ever so slightly.

"I'll be in my office," she said in a voice so seductive my face wasn't the only thing that was rock solid.

The headmaster was unfazed, and he leaned forwards and clasped his hands on the desk as the door behind him, the one that led straight to the secretary's office.

"So, James, I heard that you haven't behaved very well at your last schools. You've been very naughty, haven't you, James? Do you know what we do to naughty boys here? We teach them a lesson."

Was he coming on to me?

"If you go out of line once, you'll be punished. Maybe you won't even do something wrong, I just might have to remind you of the punishment. I'm going to have to keep a track on you, James. Don't think I won't, because I'm going to have a lot of fun teaching you a lesson. Understood?"

"I guess," I grunted. Oh great, another creep.

"Believe me, James," he laughed, "you're going to remember the name 'Master Crabblesnitch."

"Why isn't it 'mister'? Or 'doctor', 'professor' or some other fancy shit?" I asked, as if I cared.

"In normal circumstances it's 'Doctor', but you, James, are going to recognise me as your master. Here at this school, you are going to please me. In more ways than one. You may leave," he waved his hand vaguely towards the door.

"Thank you, sir," I said automatically.

"Thank you master," he corrected.

I replied by slamming the door. This school was going to be… interesting.


	2. Chapter 2

As I was walking slowly down the creaky wooden stairs down to the foyer of the school, I heard a shrill voice coming from the balcony.

"James, you're going to have to change out of those clothes if you want to make it in this school," she said.

God, she was almost like my mom. Hopefully I won't be seeing too much of _her_.

I left through the front doors and found myself back at the crossroads and heading towards the boys' dorm. As soon as I'd entered the building I'd regretted it. There were people running everywhere.

Sleazy guys were chasing the geeks and the cool kids were letting stink bombs rip. This place better have thick walls or I'm not gonna catch a wink of sleep here.

I looked around at the doors and was pleased to see that my room was the closest to the door. A sign read "James Hopkins" on it, which I immediately ripped off once I noticed no-one else had one. I looked inside. It was a pretty decent place, besides the filth, I guess. What a homely touch.

I was about to open up one of my suitcases when I heard a sarcastic whine of a voice behind me.

"So you're the new kid, huh?"

"No shit," I replied, sitting up and twisting to face him.

"Ooh, attitude. I don't like that."

"I can already tell you're a hypocrite. You make a real good first impression, you know that?" I shot back, a smirk planted on my face.

His face, on the other hand, seemed to burn with fury. His eyes were like flames and I could already see the little cogs in his head turning, trying to think of something to say. Suddenly, his facial features relaxed – well, except that freaky scar on his brow – and he smiled again.

"Quite the joker, aren't you? My name's Gary."

I stood up to fist bump him. "Jimmy Hopkins."

"Nice to meet you, Jimmy. Now, uh, what color vest are you wearing today?" he asked, like I had any idea in hell what he meant by that.

"Well I packed blue, but I got some money and –"

"_You_, friend, need to get a grip on the social ladder of this school. Trust me, the only other kids here with blue sweaters are the middle-schoolers and femmeboy. You don't want to look like either of 'em, trust me. Come on."

Ignoring this crazy guy in the room who asks for way too much trust than anyone could possibly give him, I quickly dropped my jacket and equipped the button-up shirt and the sweater vest. I was about to drop my pants before I remembered Gary. I turned to see him just staring at me. No, not staring. Scanning. He was scanning me. Seeing whether I was useful or not, perhaps? Or he might want to get into my pants. You can never be too sure in this school, I've found.

"Can you leave?"

"If you say so," he said like he had unfinished business with me.

I found Gary again when I had my khakis on, and I saw he was poking a scrawny sophomore in a blue vest. Must be femmeboy.

"Don't you have something more _intellectual_ to do with your time?" the boy suddenly snapped.

"Ooh, Petey's growing into quite a feisty, independent young woman!"

"Shut up," Petey mumbled. I could tell he gave up like that a lot with Gary around.

"Hey, Pete," I decided to sit down next to him. The shocked boy was so taken aback that he forgot to shake my hand when I offered it to him.

"Ah, Hopkins, you're changed. Let's get going," he sprang up and dragged Petey, I guess his name is, behind him by the collar.

Gary marched into the evening with a look of glee on his face. This guy likes being in charge way too much. Gary let go of Petey's ear so he could swing his arms to complete the look of a drunk-with-power leader. He looked the part.

He led us both towards the cafeteria, where I saw everyone was eating – or pretending to – an abomination of a meal. I could see a bunch of them were munching on chips from the local store. Gary sat on a counter and patted the seat next to him. He proceeded to kick Petey in the face when he tried to climb on. I guess the invitation was for me. I hopped on.

"The social ladder isn't too hard to grasp. Five tables, five gangs." He pointed to the second leftmost table, where the students wore green, "they're the nerds, the very lowest of categories. Besides Petey here, of course, who is a non-clique student, they're on the left there. They wear teal."

I noticed that Gary was also wearing teal, but Petey was wearing the same blue as I was. Maybe Gary wasn't as high and mighty as he thought. I guess Petey was undecided, then.

He ruffled Petey's hair and carried on, pointing to the next table, "the second clique there is the Bullies. They don't really do much except harass the Nerds. Since they're not very useful, they don't socialize much and they're just plain wannabes, they're second to the lowest. They don't even wear vests.

"Those are the Preps, or 'Preppies'. These are the rich kids who think they're better than everyone else. This immediately makes them one of the most unpopular groups. Even so, they're the versatile group. I guess they bought their way to this position. They wear Aquablue sweaters with diamonds."

I can see that you have some things in common then, apart from the money, I thought to myself.

"Then at the very right there, you've got the Jocks. Very stereotypical guys, very popular, athletic, attractive…" his voice trailed off for a second before he shook his head and carried on. "They're the highest clique. They wear football jerseys, as you can see."

"Who are they?" I asked, pointing to the table he'd missed out, in between the Preps and the Jocks.

"They're the second-in-command clique, the Greasers. They're wannabe Jocks who hang out at the autoshop. Basically they're all John Travolta clones. Hell, it's a surprised they haven't gone through the trouble of doing a _Grease Light'ning_ rendition for us."

I nodded slowly, taking all of this information in, although I didn't really see why it was important.

"The social ladder," Gary began again while jumping off the counter and walking through the cafeteria, "is the most important thing at Bullworth. Without it, we wouldn't have the foundation we need," he paused, right in front of the school's front door, "to rule the school!" he added with a flourish, opening the doors wide. The moon's light silhouetted his sharp features, making him look almost spooky. Sorry, I mean really fucking spooky.

The three of us walked back to the dorm in silence, save for Gary's annoying whistling. When we got inside, Gary headed for his room.

"I'd love to stay, girls, but it's getting really late and I have plans to work on. Besides, Petey needs his beauty sleep."

With that, Petey and I were left alone in the hallway. Petey decided to retire to his bed too, while I decided to beat whatever highscore was on the arcade game in the common room.


End file.
